


Between The Stars

by PrincelyLucielVangelis



Category: Hannibal (TV), Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Creepy Hannibal Lecter, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Goblin King Hannibal, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is centuries old, Labyrinth References, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Manipulative Will Graham, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Someone Help Will Graham, Sorry Not Sorry, Swearing, The age difference is kiiiinda squicky, Will is 19, Young Will Graham, but does it count if he's fae?, but he looks mid-late thirties, fae hannibal, the author sucks at updating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincelyLucielVangelis/pseuds/PrincelyLucielVangelis
Summary: Rating Subject to ChangeWill Graham is a young man of 19 years who lost his father in a tragic accident some years ago. Since, his mother has remarried and Will has found himself almost constantly foul-mooded, but this is all subject to change when a story he tells his baby sister comes true.OrA Labyrinth AU very loosely following Sarah's journey to retrieve Toby with a violent Hannibal twist.





	1. A Stag at the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fic. I am eager to see the results of this first chapter, and to post the rest of this story.  
> This is entirely unbeta'd, so I would appreciate it if you would be kind when indicating flaws.  
> I own neither Hannibal nor Labyrinth, and this is purely fanwork for which I recieve no profit, other than your enjoyment.

A young man of perhaps 19 stood at the edge of Lake Anne, eyes unfocused and glassy with unshed tears. Will Graham had lost his father exactly two years ago on the water due to an accident out on the boat. He could recall every detail of those catastrophic 13 minutes with painful ease.

He had been sitting not particularly far from where he stood now, gutting and descaling the fish he and his father had caught for dinner while his mother relaxed against a tree with a book. His father had been drinking for a large part of the afternoon, but that wasn’t notably different from most afternoons and Will had thought very little of Theodore Graham’s drunkenness. When the elder man had hollered out a slurred explanation that he was going back out on the boat, Will had simply waved his acknowledgement and returned to his preparation of the morning’s catch. It took his father only eight minutes to reach the deep center of the lake. It took him only one to fall over the side. It took Will less than one to notice and run to the shoreline, but far longer did it take him to swim out and help than the four it took for Theodore Graham to drown.

Will blinked twice when a series of soft barks pulled him from his reverie and reached up to stem the flow of tears running freely down his cheeks before turning to look for his hound.

“Buster? What’s wrong, boy?” asked the teen in a rough voice when his eyes found the small mutt facing the treeline with its hackles raised. Will glanced up to follow the dog’s line of sight, eyes falling on the figure of a large, seemingly black stag that appeared to be staring right back. The teen tilted his head ever so slightly in his curiosity and stroked the head of his furry companion to soothe him.

“William! Where you at?” boomed the low tenor of his step-father’s voice, making Will’s eyes dart toward the direction of his family’s vacation cabin.

“Fuck!” he hissed, realizing he must be late, “Come on, Buster, we’ve gotta get home.”

Sparing one last glance toward the stag, or where it should have been, Will frowned and figured Garrett's voice had scared it off as he herded his dog back to the cabin.

 

“There you are, Kiddo; where’ve you been?” asked Garrett Jacob Hobbs with an awkward grin, in an even more awkward venture to bond with the moody son of his wife.

“Out, and don’t call me that, Garrett,” Will responded in a clipped monotone, ushering his dog into the backyard before pushing past the older man into the lodge. He decidedly loathed his mother’s attempt to provide a surrogate male role model, despite the poor man’s efforts to gain his favor.

Garrett sighed softly and turned back into the homely cottage, casting a desperate look toward his wife for help.

“Now, now, Will, there’s no need to be so rude to your father,” Elizabeth chided her son with an exasperated frown.

That caught the boy’s immediate ire.

“He is not my father!” snapped Will vehemently, an irritated snarl etched into his soft features, “And you can’t just replace him!”

Both adults shared a stunned look as the curly-haired teenager stormed down the hall to his bedroom, effectively waking the baby, who announced her displeasure with a loud wail at the same time that Will slammed his door. 

After a brief moment,Will’s mother went to soothe the infant her son had so carelessly startled and Garrett followed behind with the intent to placate his step-son.  
William Graham stared into the mirror at the features that were all too hauntingly similar to those of his father. Piercing blue-green eyes stared back at him under unruly chocolate curls that never seemed to grow any shorter, no matter how often he cut them. Those penetrating, sea coloured orbs raked over the face of their owner, studiously mapping out the soft cheekbones, small nose, and strong jawline stroked by absent minded fingers.

A quick, sharp rat-tat-tat on the door brought them snapping back up to their own reflection.

“Will? Will, can we talk?”

Will’s plush, pink lips curled into a distasteful snarl. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Garrett let a long suffering sigh, and rested his head against the door. “Alright, buddy, listen, your mom just put Abby back to bed and it’d really be appreciated if you would keep an ear out for her. I wanted to take Lizbeth out on the water tonight. Would that be alright with you, Champ?”

The man lifted his head to stare hopefully at the silence that followed.

“That’s fine, Garrett. Just go already.”

Another disappointed sigh escaped his lips and he pulled himself away from the door.

“Alright, Will. We won’t be too long, maybe a few hours or so,” he told the door with a small frown as he made his way back through the hall.

Will huffed out a soft growl and moved to toss himself back onto his bed, hands instinctively reaching for the soft little dog he had kept ever since he could remember, the little stuffed toy being the very first gift his father ever gave him. A deep frown carved itself onto his mouth when seeking fingers found nothing. With an aggravated rumble, the teen sat up to search the bed with his eyes.

Cerulean irises flashed with vexation upon realizing the toy had left the vicinity of his room.

“Someone’s been in my room, and someone’s been taking my things. Again. Fuck,” snapped the furious adolescent, bolting from the room and down the hallway to his half-sister’s nursery.

Upon opening the wailing baby’s door, Will’s eyes fell immediately to the worn stuffed dog on the floor.

“Winston!”

He walked forward brusquely, taking the pup into his arms and cradling it to his chest, throwing a dark look at the child approaching one in the crib.

“I hate you, you know?”

Abigail continued to cry, staring at her older sibling with tear-stained cheeks and watery eyes.

“What? What do you want? A story? Fine.”

Will stroked Winston’s matted fur and took a seat on the rocking chair near the center of the room.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy. A tired, hurt, boy, who lost the person closest to him because he could not save him. A boy whose mother had tried to replace the irreplaceable with a lesser man who gave her a baby. A baby that never stopped crying and always wanted and was never, ever content. A baby that took, and took, and took, and could still find no peace with what she had. Well, one evening, the lesser man took the mother out, and left the screaming child with the boy.”

Will stood, and it was at this moment that a fanciful thought settled in his mind and made him smile.

“Little did he know, a powerful man had fallen in love with the boy. The Goblin King, a ruler in the Underground, had fallen deeply, madly in love with him, and had granted him certain powers.”

Abigail’s bawling didn’t lessen in the slightest as her brother gently settled his dog on the chair he had previously been sitting in and began to stalk toward her crib.

“And it was on this evening that the boy decided to use his power to rid himself of the insolent baby’s whimpering once and for all. So he called the goblins to his aid.”

 

**Unbeknownst to the monologuing youth, his words had awoken the mischievous fae tasked to aid him by their king.**

**“Listen,” hissed a goblin, eyes peering upward, “He’s going to say the words!”**

**“What words?” yawned a second goblin.**

**“Shut up!” hissed the first.**

 

“‘Say your right words,’ the goblins said,” narrated Will as he stalked ever closer to the crying babe, “‘and we’ll take the baby to the Goblin City, and you will be free.’”

 

**“Ohh,” breathed several of the goblins in unison.**

 

“But the boy knew that the King would keep the baby in his castle for eternity, and turn it into a goblin,” he murmured, kneeling beside the crib, eyes fixated on the child pulling herself up on the railing to stand as she bawled, “and so he warned her to hush her mouth, to quiet her shrieking and to content herself with what she had. But the baby did not listen.”

Will groaned under his breath, standing and lifting Abigail from her crib when she did not cease her howling.

“Come now, stop it, stop it. I’ll say the words,” he threatened, “oh, no, I mustn’t, I mustn’t say…”

 

**The goblins leaned forward on baited breath.**

 

Abigail continued wailing.

“I wish… I wish...”

 

**“He’s going to say it!” the first goblin whispered eagerly.**

**“Say what?” the second one moaned pitifully.**

**“Shut up!” hissed the rest of them.**

**“Listen, he’s going to say the words.”**

 

The adolescent raised his sibling above his head, meeting innocent brown eyes with his own. “Oh, I can bear it no longer! Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!”

 

**The goblins all sighed with disappointment.**

**“Oh, that’s not it...” grumbled one.**

**“Now where’d he learn that rubbish?” pouted another,  
“It doesn’t even start with ‘I wish’.”**

 

“Oh, Abby, stop it!” Will relented, bringing the child back down to his chest and placing her once more in her crib, tucking her under her blankets. “I almost wish I did know what to say to make the goblins come take you away,” he grumbled.

 

**“I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now; that’s not hard, is it?!”**

 

Will frowned, feeling a sentence on the tip of his tongue.

“I wish…”

 

**“Did he say it?”**

**“Shut up!”**

 

Abigail’s cries brought him back to the present and he sighed deeply, turning to pick up the original reason for his visit: Winston. Resigned, William decided to let the infant cry herself out and moved to the door. Looking back as he rested his fingers on the light he frowned.

“I wish the goblins would come and take you away.”

He flipped the lights off.

“Right now.”

Will made it four steps down the hallway when the crying suddenly stopped, causing him to pause. He waited a moment before placing Winston on a nearby mantle and walking back to Abigail’s nursery.

“Abby? You alright?”

He flicked the switch a few times, but no light filled the room.

“Why aren’t you crying?”

Will started toward the crib with caution, head cocked curiously to the side as he loomed over the railing. The blankets within shifted with an evil sounding cackle, and he slowly placed a hand inside to tear back the blankets, jumping back a pace when he found the crib empty.

The baby was gone.

With this realization, the nursery erupted into chaos. A rhythmic tapping on the double french glass doors drew Will’s attention to the black stag from earlier in the evening, but as soon as he noticed it another cackle drew it elsewhere. Random laughter and running had the boy turning and twisting every which way to keep track of the situation until at last the stag apparently opened the doors. 

Will gasped at the beast as it made its way into the room, standing tall and proud. This close, Will could see that instead of fur, the stag had raven-black feathers. Right before his wide blue doe-eyes, the creature began to shift and change, revealing a humanoid male.

The man appeared to be in his mid to late thirties, with a strong jawline and cheekbones that could likely cut a diamond, and was wearing a pristine three-piece-suit that the teenager would likely consider garish on anyone else, but seemed at home on the older male’s skin. His hair was a sandy-blonde, combed back into the perfect coiffe, and his eyes were a dramatic crimson that faded into an earthy maroon after a long moment. He stood regally, with his hands clasped behind his back, as a man of incredible importance might.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Will breathed in awe, “You’re the Goblin King…”

The corner’s of the man’s lips quirked upward for a split second, revealing sharp, imperfect fangs as he watched the awed young boy.

“Please, call me Hannibal,” murmured the severe looking ruler in an accent that made Will’s knees weak.

He blinked rapidly, understanding seeping in quickly. 

“Oh, fuck...”

He glanced up, eyes resting on the King’s full Windsor knot. “I want my sister back. Please, if it’s all the same.”

“What’s said is said,” Hannibal hummed, walking forward, circling the 19 year old predatorily.

“But I didn’t mean it...” Will whimpered under that stare, head turning to follow the Goblin King even as his eyes remained closer to the man’s chest than anything else,

“Oh, you didn’t?” Hannibal purred near his ear, making him shudder with his next sentence.

“Please,” he breathed, “where is she?”

Hannibal stepped back toward the window. “You know very well where she is, William. Don’t play so coy, it is rather unbecoming.”

“Please bring her back,” Will pleaded, moving closer to the dangerous fae, “Please, Hannibal?”

Hannibal’s pupils dilated at the sound of his name rolling off that gentle tongue.

“Will,” he began, “Return to your room. Create your lures and engines. Forget about the child.”

“I can’t!” Will exclaimed before softening his tone to something more respectable, “I can’t.”

Hannibal’s lips gave the slightest twitch before he waved his hand before him. “I’ve brought you a gift,” he murmured, a small crystal ball appearing on the tips of his fingers.

“What is it?”

“It’s a crystal, nothing more,” Hannibal explained, beginning to roll it in his hand, “but if you turn it this way, look into it, it will show you your dreams.”

Will’s eyes followed the movement of his hands, mesmerized.

“But this is no gift for an ordinary boy who takes care of a howling baby,” the King continued, lifting the crystal toward the curly-haired boy in temptation, “Do you want it?”

William’s silence was all the answer necessary.

“Then forget the baby.”

Will sighed ever so sweetly and he moved a pace backward. “I can’t.”

The slight downward pull of his lips must have alarmed the boy into his next sentence.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but I want my sister back.”

“William,” sighed Hannibal, pulling his hands back and allowing the crystal to turn into a snake, “Don’t defy me.” He threw the reptile toward his beloved, only for it to turn into a goblin and scarf upon impact. He didn’t want to hurt his boy, after all.

The laughter of several goblins caused Will to glance around nervously after throwing the faux snake to the ground.

“Please, Hannibal...”

The boy’s persistent begging undid him, and he placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him toward the window.

“He’s there, in my castle,” Hannibal relented, showing his boy into his own realm, “Do you still want to look for him?”

Will tensed at the sight of the castle, situated at the center of a vast labyrinth and turned to face the King.

“That’s your castle?”

“You can turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t. Don’t you understand that I can’t?” Will turned back to look at the labyrinth. “It doesn’t look that far...”

“It’s further than you think,” Hannibal supplied, leaning in to scent his boy.

Will paused. “Did you just smell me?”

Hannibal ignored the question and walked a few paces away, indicating a clock with thirteen marks on its face.

“You have thirteen hours in which to solve my labyrinth before your little sister becomes one of us forever,” he warned, slowly fading from sight.

Will stared after him for a long moment before turning toward the stone maze with a determined expression and starting toward it.


	2. Woman of the Fae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voila; Chapter 2 is up and running.

For Will, the trek down to the labyrinth felt like it took far too long, with every second seeming to last half as much as it should due to the time constraint. Upon finally reaching the formidable walls, the young male studied them with a deep frown. Unable to locate an entrance, he turned his attention to a dark-skinned man that appeared to be busying himself capturing small pixies and placing them in smaller cages.

“Hey, do you know how to get in?” the boy with the dark curls called to him.

The man turned, startled and scowling.

“Get in where?”

“In there,” Will responded, waving a hand to indicate the labyrinth walls.

“Yeah, of course I know how to get in there,” the man growled, as if the boy should already have known such a thing.

The younger tensed and scowled, his precious blue eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Are you going to tell me how?”

The man turned back to his task of capturing pixies.

“You’ll have to ask correctly. That’s the law.”

“The law? You’re some sort of lawman then?”

The man’s chest seemed to puff up when he turned back around.

“I’m head of the Capture Unit this side of the walls,” he stated proudly.

“Capturing pixies? What did they do to be captured?” Will asked, a slight frown on his face and tilt to his head as he eyed the little winged creatures that flitted about the yard. He set out a hand, palm up for one of the tiny faeries to land upon.

The little woman, for she certainly looked to be a woman, kneeled on his hand, looking up at the boy with one of the most deceptively sweet expressions. Her soft appearance and adorable, windchime-esque giggle did their duty quite well, and lowered his defenses. Once she deemed him sufficiently placated, her gentle smile widened to reveal jagged, razor-like rows of teeth that looked to grow larger as her jaw unhinged with the intention to fill her belly with a mouthful of Will’s flesh.

The man plucked her from the boy’s palm and dropped her into a cage, where she screamed her hungry frustration.

“It’s less an idea of what they’ve already done, and more an idea of what they are going to do.”

Will’s wide, doe-eyes stared at his hand, aghast.

“She was going to take a bite of me.”

“They all will, if you invite them like that.”

The boy rubbed his wrist gently and pulled his hand back close to his chest.

“Who are you?” he asked, glancing back toward the older male.

“I already told you; I’m-”

“No, no; I meant what are you called. What’s your name?” Will clarified.

“Ah, I see. I’m Jack Crawford.”

“Can you tell me how to get into the Labyrinth?”

“I can.”

Will rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Please tell me how to get into the labyrinth.”

Crawford smirked his approval and pointed to an opening door several feet behind the puppy-like teen, “You get in through there.”

Will followed Jack’s indicating finger to the doors and nodded before returning his attention to his informer.

“Thank you,” he admonished before walking through the entrance and refocusing on his task.

Crawford scoffed at the boy’s turned back.

“Little pup’s gonna be eaten alive.”

 

William Graham wandered along the path between the walls, looking for any turns he could take deeper into the maze. After several minutes of trotting along the same stretch, the boy started to irk.

“It just goes on and on… There aren’t any turns or openings or anything,” he growled under his breath, casting a glare at the immaculate, European-inspired architecture preventing him from retrieving his baby sister.

“You’re just not looking in the right places,” chimed a playful, feminine voice.

The boy turned to find the voice belonging to a young woman with porcelain skin and long, dark hair. Her stark blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she tilted her head to the left, curious of the pup wandering the labyrinth.

“It has been a very long time since I’ve seen a human in this place,” she added, mostly to herself.

“Who are you? And what do you mean ‘not looking in the right places’? There’s just wall, wall, and more wall,” Will grumbled, though his glare seemed to be softened by her sweet nature.

The woman laughed softly, her voice laced with sugar, “My name is Alana. Alana Bloom, and you mustn’t be looking very hard; There’s an opening just there to your left.”

The boy frowned deeply, looking to his left and studying the wall there.

“No there isn’t. It’s just more wall.”

Alana’s smile softened as she responded, “It’s there, you just have to look closer; not everything here is as it seems to be.”

“Closer?”

Will placed his attention back on the wall, approaching it cautiously with a hand out in front of him to touch- except he didn’t touch. Where he had expected his hand to meet something solid, it passed through entirely. William blinked and walked through the wall to the other side, where the labyrinth seemed to actually begin its wicked tangle of twists and turns.

Alana passed through the faux wall with him and glanced around the area.

“It’s called a glamour,” she explained, “It’s Underground magic used to distort perception, usually in order to hide or protect something or someone.”

“Magic, huh. I suppose the fairy tales were more right than anyone knew,” commented the teen with his focus on the Fae woman, “What are you, anyway?”

Alana glanced at him.

“I am a woman of the Fae.”

“Ah,” he murmured in acknowledgement, losing interest in his new conversational companion, and gazed once more at the layout of the paths surrounding them, “Well, I’ve gotta get moving. Thanks for the uh… help.”

“I would like to come with you, if you’ll allow me. You’re trying to get to the centre, if I’m not mistaken?”

Will eyed her warily.

“Yeah?”

Miss Bloom smiled almost sheepishly, “I have a wife who’s staying with her brother; he lives along the way, and I would like to go see her.”

“You’ll take me to the centre?”

“I’ll lead you as far as the Verger’s Den.”

William nodded curtly after studying her for a long moment, reading her for any ill or malicious intent, none of which he found.

“Alright then,” he agreed quietly, “Which way do we go then?”

 

**Hannibal sat deep in thought while he watched his clever boy interact with his everchanging creation. With a Fae helping his little puppy, it would prove even more difficult to challenge his psyche. The king cast his eyes toward the little girl that had graced him with the opportunity to convince his curly-haired prince to join him in his kingdom, in his palace, where the boy would never want for anything.**

**“Hello, little Abby.”**

**The baby tilted her head and babbled back at the sandy-haired man with the jagged teeth.**

**Hannibal smiled and stood from his throne, lifting the girl into his arms and cradling her close.**

**“Come here, little one. You will need your rest.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment or kudos to encourage me to keep posting these! I was really excited to bring in Alana and explore her character, as I've never written her before.


	3. Verger's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Mason Verger, centre stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short update (like... really short in comparison to other chapters), but I really needed to get something out so I could get back into writing this. I hope you guys enjoy it! I'm gonna try really hard to get another update out in the next few weeks. <3

The pretty Fae woman spoke with him as they walked, asked him about his home, his life, how he even found himself in the Underground, in the labyrinth. She quieted when he told her of his sister, his mistake, and the Goblin King, her expression anxious and wary.

“His Majesty brought you here?” she inquired, “You’re certain it was the king?”

Will looked at her curiously.

“Yeah, pretty sure. He’s pretty unmistakable, even for someone I’ve never seen outside of dreams,” the boy answered, his eyes trained on the woman’s left temple, feigning eye contact.

Alana shifted uncomfortably at the revelation and spoke no more of his situation as they traveled, instead telling tales of the labyrinth and its inhabitants.

 

Verger’s Den was impossible to miss, even to one who had never before seen the grounds. The entrance was ostentatiously decorated; gold veins ran through the branches that made up the front archway and silver vines twined themselves ‘round it. A golden crest rested at the very top of the arch depicting a wild boar rearing on its hindquarters, a king’s crown hovering above its head, and a ribbon reading ‘VERGER’ in dramatically engraved castellar script curling around its feet.

Will cocked an eyebrow at the ridiculous over-compensation he read in the sight of it.

Alana simply smiled in quiet amusement at his telling expression before she turned her attention to the entrance and ran her fingers over the carved letters on the crest.

As though summoned by the caress, another woman appeared. She was a little taller than Alana, though her face was fuller, softer almost. She wore her chestnut hair in a tight bun that made her appear sharper than she would seem otherwise. Her expression remained unreadable until her hazel eyes fell on Will’s traveling companion.

“Alana...” breathed the woman as her mouth broke into a soft smile and she opened her arms to the Fae woman.

“Margot,” Alana answered and pressed herself into the brunette’s embrace, kissing her soundly. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

Margot hummed softly her agreement and held Alana tighter for a moment before releasing her. “Who’s this, now?” she inquired with a flick of her wrist in Will’s direction.

“Will Graham,” the pup returned before Alana could open her mouth. 

“He seeks the centre. His Majesty has brought him here,” the Fae woman explained slowly, dragging her eyes from Margot to rest on Will’s defiant form.

Margot’s eyes widened and she blinked slowly.

“The King brought him?” she restated, almost apprehensively.

“Yeah, why’s that such a big deal?” the boy snapped, his slight southern drawl bleeding into the words.

Alana’s wife glanced nervously back through the archway, wringing her hands in front of her. “Mason will want to meet him...”

“Who’s Mason?”

“Mason is Margot’s brother,” Alana replied cautiously, “He’s the head of Verger’s Den.”

“Indeed,” crooned another voice, drawing out the ‘ee’ sound with a sickly drawl, “I am.”

Will turned toward the voice to find it attached to an almost charming looking man with hair several touches lighter than Margot’s and eyes that matched hers.

“Hannibal Lecter brought you to this Labyrinth, you say?” the man’s disgustingly sweet voice drawled again, and Will couldn’t help but notice that his mouth did not move when he spoke.

“I’m really starting to hate repeating myself,” Will growled, his fingers flexing into an irritable fist.

“Now, now, dear Will!” exclaimed Mason Verger, his mouth still, “It’s just so _interesting_! The King has never before brought a human older than three to the Labyrinth, and never has a human been invited to walk the walls outside the centre.”

Will tilted his head and frowned deeply, “He said if I got to the centre I could have my sister back...”

The lower half of Mason’s face remained a polite, if not somewhat disturbing, smile, but his eyes lit with something positively wicked.

“Now that _is_ quite the development; you simply must join us for tea. Might I offer you a chocolate?”

 

The inside of Verger’s Den was just as ridiculously opulent as the entrance and Will rolled his eyes at the back of Mason’s head while he was led through the grounds, Margot and Alana stiff-postured at his back, until they reached a large pair of double French doors made from the rich, dark wood of an ash tree, trimmed with gold in intricate, knotted patterns. Here, Mason clapped sharply and the doors swung open of their own accord to allow the Verger Clan’s head to lead them inside.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, Will; we have so much to discuss,” rang out Mason’s voice, stretching the sound of the ‘s’ in the last word, as he strutted away, disappearing into the next room.

Margot and Alana hung back a little, Margot catching Will’s wrist and forcing him to linger with them. 

“Don’t eat or drink anything he offers you, Will,” Margot warned, concern etched into her softer features as Alana nodded her agreement.

“Mason is not below harming an innocent in his revenge.”

“His revenge? What are you-” Will started, only to be cut off by Mason’s ill-sounding southern drawl.

“Will, are you coming?”

Will glanced toward the door into which Mason had disappeared before turning back to the women, only to find them gone. He cast his gaze about the room in confusion.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming now,” he called back, slowly backing away from where the women had vanished and turning to enter the room with Mason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave a comment and/or kudos and to take care of yourself! ~Van <3


	4. The Faceless Boar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile, and I know it's really ahort; writing this chapter was like pulling teeth, simply could not make myself sit down and do it. I will try to have the next chapter up before Yuletide. On the plus side, there's murder next chapter.

“So, William, is it?” Mason’s voice crooned, his mouth still but his eyes sharp and intrigued as he settled into the high-backed, throne-like chair at the head of the table.

“Just Will,” the boy corrected, pulling out a chair on Mason’s left, leaving the one directly beside him open, and seating himself in it.

“Will, then. Won’t you have something to eat?” The Verger Clan’s head waved his hand over the table to indicate the feast spread over it, “You are more than welcome to, and after such a long journey I’m sure you must be famished. Or perhaps a drink, if you’re thirsty?”

Will’s gaze never left Mason, and he offered a noticeably forced, polite smile, and he was sure if the Verger man’s face could move he would be looking at a wicked grin.

“No, thanks, I ate before I left.”

“Straight to business then, I suppose,” Mason hummed, “How is it that you know the King, hm?”

“I don’t,” answered Will in a bored, clipped tone.

“You have to know him somehow, don’t you, if he’s got your baby sister. He only takes the children he is called upon to take, you have to have summoned him some way,” Mason’s sickly sweet voice insisted, and Will’s eyes tracked how the man shifted slightly forward, expression vaguely predatory and hungry.

“I was just… telling her a story, a made-up story, to make her stop crying.”

“A written story?”

“No, I made it up as I told it to her.”

“Interesting, it just…” Mason embellished his next words with a flourish of his hand, “formulated, out of thin air?”

Will's brow creased.

“Does that matter?”

“Why, dear boy, _of course_ it matters! Everything matters; it's all part of the context of things, and context matters a great deal in the Underground. Context matters a great deal in regards to the King, quite especially if you don't want to end up like me,” Mason's voice and eyes turned dark with his last words and with a twist of his wrist as he stood, the lower half of his face morphed into a near indistinguishable mass.  
Will took in a sharp breath at the sight, jerking out of his seat involuntarily.

Mason howled with laughter, doubling over with his mangled face twisted into a sadistic expression; Will would guess an attempt at grinning made impossible by his disfigurement. 

“The… the King did that to you?” Will asked, taking a breath to steel himself and replace his callous mask.

“Now, now, Will, it’s never quite so easy as the obvious answer. No, King Lecter didn’t do this to me; he simply offered me a glass of tea and then watched as I was driven to do this to myself.” Mason’s eyes darkened with malice as they focused once more on Will. “He told me to cut off my own face and feed it to his goblins, and then he smiled at me when I was driven to obey.”

Will swallowed, his throat having gone uncomfortably dry with an emotion that he was unwilling to acknowledge. An emotion that Mason mistook for fear. Will wished he was right.

“What’s the context for that?” he asked before the man could open his ruined mouth to comment on it, watching his expression turn morbidly friendly once again.

“Clever boy, I can see why he likes you so much,” Mason crooned, “but I think that’s quite enough chit-chat for now.”

“But you didn’t answer my-”

“Cordell!”

A large wild boar that would be taller than Will if it stood on its hind legs, with tusks thicker than both of his forearms pressed together, ambled into the dining room and stopped at Mason’s side.

The corners of Mason’s ruined mouth pulled back into a mangled approximation of a smirk as he rested his hand at the base of the boar’s neck and patted it twice. “Take Will to the guest room so he can rest. I’m sure he must be exhausted after such a long journey.”

“No, actually I- Hey wait!” Will yelped as the boar slid its tusks underneath him and jerked him out of his chair to carry him out of the room with only Mason’s squalling laughter following after them. 

~~~

Will snarled and slammed his fist against the heavy dark mahogany door. It was locked from the outside and there was a noticeable lack of windows to attempt to pry open. “Fuck!” A dark growl erupted from the back of his throat and his hand came down on the door once more, open this time and resulting in a resounding smack. “Let. Me. Out!”

“Would you _please_ shut your mouth?” hissed Margot, opening the door as quickly and quietly as humanly, or rather inhumanly, possible. “He’ll hear you!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or a kudos, and remember to take care of yourselves. Until next time, ciao.
> 
> ~Van.


End file.
